


The Journey to Hurricane Castle

by Featherfire



Category: My Little Pony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-16
Updated: 2011-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:39:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Featherfire/pseuds/Featherfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of a terrible storm, Firefly's herd must find a new home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Journey to Hurricane Castle

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the names of the ponies of Hurricane Castle have been changed... mostly the babies... because the names Hasbro gave them were terribly uninspired. Here's a partial list:
> 
> Moondreamer - Baby Moondancer  
> Comet - Baby Glory  
> Sparks - Baby Firefly  
> Socks - Baby Stockings  
> Bluerocket - Baby Blue Ember  
> Penelope and Calliope - Pony Bride w/Doves  
> Featherstar - custom Pony Bride  
> Appleblossom - Mommy Apple Delight  
> Applesauce - Baby Apple Delight  
> Tulip - Posey (I had two)

_From the journals of Sundance, Recorder of Hurricane Castle_

Sometimes, when the wind howls through the treetops and whips even our meager river into a white frenzy, this old castle gets drafty and blows our manes into our faces and makes us shiver. The rest of the time, however, it is snug, and we are happy. We work our fields, we patrol our borders, we play our games, and we are happy. Out of all hardship comes reward.

It began some months ago when the first new ponies began to trickle in and join our herd. Perhaps the first was our dear little Bluerocket, the symbol-less mystery who has touched our lives with her innocence and curiosity. It had been long-absent from our lives, with our own children away at school. Then came Paradise (whose memory grows stronger daily). After her, Tapestry graced us with the arrival of Windy and Skydancer, and we thought ourselves blessed when Moondreamer and Cuddles returned from Yellow River with their teacher, Buzzer of the butterfly-winged ponies. Though I grow forgetful of the exact order in which they arrived, after that, ponies began to come to us from all over. Someday, perhaps, I will relate the tales of each new arrival, but not now. Some were strange to us at first, some more familiar—Gusty reminded us so much of our own Glory that we thought perhaps they too were long lost sisters—but Firefly welcomed them all into her herd and stretched her wings proudly to be our leader.

Then, tragedy struck.

The hurricane blew off the ocean with little warning, only a gathering of huge clouds on the horizon, ominous with roiling blackness. The wind picked up and battered at our windows, screaming _danger! Danger!_ Up Up and Away, who knows the patterns of the wind and weather, told Firefly to gather her herd and flee. Then the rains came, and riding the back of the fierce wind shattered the glass in our windows. Firefly heeded ’Way’s warning—of course, by then there was no need to tell _us_ to flee. Though we begged them not to, she and Medley stayed behind to be sure all of us got away safely. We fled to the open meadows behind the house, far from the forest and far from the sea. We ran without looking back at the terror behind us, trusting that Firefly and Medley ran with us. We waited, miserable, pelted by rain and attacked by wind, in a tight circle with the children, Buzzer and the flutters in the center.

We waited until dawn came and with it, the end of the storm. A rainbow, brighter than any such as I have seen, arced across the sky in a glory of color, and we rejoiced to see it. Yet even in the midst of this joy there was still fear: Firefly and Medley had not returned.

4-Speed, Gusty and Glory went back to the house to investigate.

As we waited for them, we tried to calm Rosedust and Morning Glory, whose delicate wings had been all but shredded by the fearsome wind. Moondancer plied a little of her healing arts to the remnants of the once-beautiful and envied wings, and after a while they stood quietly, without tears. But we looked askance at them, fearful for them. _A flutter without her wings_ , I thought, _is not really a flutter at all._ I banished the cruel thought—they would always be our flutters, wings or no.

The scouts returned soon after, with drooping heads and eyes glassy with unshed tears. The house had collapsed, they said, and the roof had collapsed. Firefly and her ever-faithful second in command Medley had become trapped under the heavy roof beams, their backs broken, and had perished.

We spent a full day in that meadow, mourning them, but on the third day we knew we had to move on. We had to find a new home. Firefly, Moondancer said in her wisdom, would want us to.

So we walked. We lived off the land as we knew our ancestors had, and the hope of a new home and a new beginning spurred us on. As we traveled we heard stories from some other sojourners we met along the way; our house was not the only place devastated by the hurricane. Poppleland, our friends to the south, had been all but annihilated. The same with Carebear Isle and Pokémon Island. Only a few survivors remained of those once-great societies, and we sent our humble prayers that they too would manage to rebuild what they had lost, at least somewhat.

I don’t know how many of us noticed the gradual incline of the land under their hooves; by then we were weary with the constant traveling, and at first the rise was imperceptible. Then we journeyed into hills, hills we knew could only lead to mountains. Soon we could see them, rising like monoliths in the distance, peaks obscured in the clouds, taller than the Ponyland Range. I am not sure how long it was after we started our journey—time seemed to blend together and we lived in each day without much thought to the day before or the day after—but one night Moondancer had a dream. "It was not merely a dream," she told us the next morning, "but a premonition. In it, a small pony with butterfly wings arching over her back led us to a new home."

"Was it Buzzer?" Dancing Butterflies asked (much to Buzzer’s embarrassment).

Moondancer shook her head. "No," she replied. "She was not one whom we know. But she took us to a place even better than our old home, and we made her our leader."

At that, we began to mutter amongst ourselves. Oh, we knew we must have a leader of course, but how could Firefly’s replacement (such as there can _be_ a replacement for one such as she) be a near-stranger? We had been considering Moondancer herself, or perhaps Wind Whistler, but now…?

Of course, we had always trusted Moondancer. She had never steered us wrong before. So we pressed on, secure at least in the knowledge that there would one day be an end to the ceaseless travelling, and that we would, indeed, find a new home.

Two days later Moondreamer lifted her muzzle to the breeze and called, "What’s that?"

Moondreamer, though young, is already beginning to show a powerful mage-talent, and we trusted her as much as we trusted her mother Moondancer. So we all followed her gaze and saw what she saw: a fluttering, glittering spot in the distance.

"It’s coming this way!" Apple Delight Shouted.

As we watched the shape gradually resolved itself into a four-legged creature with a butterfly’s wings. Buzzer, with a gasp, opened her own wings and rose into the air. As I looked at her, with her long mane and tail trailing behind her, I realized that the other animal was a butterfly-winged _pony_.

We all gasped then as a group, recalling Moondancer’s dream. The pony was light purple with sky blue hair, and when we looked to Moondancer, she only nodded.

We stood stock still as the tiny pony approached. She landed in front of us. She smiled prettily at Buzzer, but seemed unsurprised at seeing her there. Buzzer bowed, touching her head to her foreleg, and the other pony bowed back. Then she looked up at Moondancer, calmly, and said, "Hello." Her voice was sweet, light and feathery like a breeze in spring.

"Hello," Moondancer replied, matching her calm.

"My name is High Flier. I can see you have journeyed far—where are you going?"

"We are searching for a new home," Moondancer told her. "Would you like to join us?"

I do not know how she remained so tranquil. My own heart hammered in my chest, and a look at Tossles and Posey, on either side of me, confirmed that I was not the only one.

High Flier’s serene blue-eyed gaze swept over us, travel-weary and no doubt dusty from our travels, and I felt suddenly embarrassed to be in such a state in front of one who would be our leader. After a long, pregnant pause, she turned back to Moondancer and nodded once. "I think I would like that," she answered. "Thank you."

We journeyed on. After a period of awkward near-awe, at travelling with someone who, essentially, had stepped out of a dream, we gradually warmed to High Flier. She was a sweet pony, intelligent and with an endearing personality. Though not mage-gifted herself, she knew something of magic. She also knew herblore and told us which plants and roots were good to eat and which were not, and it afforded us a little variety in our diet ( and this boosted morale more than we realized). Her disposition was kind and gentle, and the children loved her. Most of us, I think, even managed to forget Moondancer’s vision—though I know I never did, and from their faces I could tell Moondancer, Twilight, Majesty and Tossles didn’t, either.

One morning I awoke before dawn to find High Flier gone. I could not understand—had she deserted us? Twice more I checked, taking stock of each sleeping pony around me, but the little winged shape was nowhere to be seen.

I left my place in the warm knot of slumbering bodies and went to look for her. As I passed, 4-Speed too awoke and fell silently into step beside me. The dew-covered grass soaked my legs and tail, and not even the birds were awake.

We had not walked very far when we saw a familiar form rise from the wet grass. Dew streamed from her wings and trailing tail like gems.

"Sundance!" she called. "4-Speed! Wake the others! Come quickly!" She flew in a little excited circle, so fast that her tail nearly doubled back on itself, and then fluttered off and disappeared.

4-Speed and I looked at each other for a moment, then turned as one and galloped back to the herd.

"Wake up!" 4-Speed shouted. "Wake up, everyone!" He galloped in a wide circle around them as heads came up in alarm. "What is it?" Posey wanted to know.

"We think it’s happened!" I cried, caught up in the excitement, half rearing and dancing in place. "Moondancer’s dream has come true!"

At that, they surged to their feet, all talking excitedly.

"Do you really think so?" asked Windy.

"Where’s High Flier?" from Majesty.

"Where are we going?" from Fifi.

"Follow us!" 4-Speed cried triumphantly. He broke his circling to charge off the way we had come.

The ponies flowed forward, and I too pivoted in place to follow 4-Speed.

"Where did she go, where did she go?" Posey panted as she raced along beside me. I could only shake my head.

Suddenly, up ahead, we saw a flash of lavender and blue.

"There she is!" Glory exclaimed.

"There she is, there she is!" the ponies chorused. High Flier hovered in place for a moment, the sun rising above the mountains at her back and turning the gray sky pink and lemon. The silver dragonfly between her eyes flashed. Then she spun, and we followed.

"I smell running water!" Penelope said, and stretched her long white legs in a burst of speed born of desperation.

We topped a rise, and stopped short, gazing in wonder over the valley below. We squealed to a halt so abrupt our hooves dug furrows in the dirt.

The running water that Penelope—that all of us—had smelled took form in a small brook that babbled and sang. Over the brook arched a white bridge. Across the bridge, standing silent like a part of the mountains behind it, stood a castle.

"This is it," Moondancer breathed.

High Flier appeared then, hovering slightly above us.

"High Flier," Moondancer said. "How did you find it?"

"I knew it was here," High Flier explained, with a sheepish grin. "I’ve seen it, I’ve flown over it. I just didn’t know _exactly_ where it was. The storm threw me off course, and I lost my bearings. However, when I found this herd, I knew that I needed to find it again for you—for all of you, who had lost so much. As we traveled I began to recognize the lay of the land, and this morning when I woke, I knew where we were."

"Does anyone live there?" Glory asked.

High Flier looked over her shoulder at the stone fortress. "I don’t know," she admitted. "But I have flown over it several times, and I have never seen signs of life."

Thus encouraged, we picked our way down the steep hillside and across the bridge. We explored the castle and found nothing—no inhabitants, but evidence that there once had been, and that they had left in a great hurry. All the signs of living remained, but all the candles had long since melted into pools of scorched wax, and all the rooms were empty.

"Is this our new home?" Cuddles asked, with all the directness of the young.

"It looks that way," said Bright Bouquet.

"Yay!" the baby cheered, and Moondreamer, Applesauce and Bluerocket took it up.

Our next surprise came when we headed back outside to find a strange animal waiting for us in the courtyard. We had never seen her like before. Tall and slender, she had a short white mane, a long tail, and a long neck. Her ears were rounded and between them rose two small horn-like nubs. Her eyes were soft and kind, though, and we sensed no malice from her. _She couldn’t possibly be a pony_! I thought, remembering Tapestry’s admission that there were many kinds of ponies we would find unusual. Were not Featherstar and the twins tall and slender as well?

Still, looking at her with her horns, long neck and foreshortened muzzle, I could not believe she was a pony.

Glory, bold as brass as always, asked, "Do you live here?"

She sighed, and her eyes grew sad. "Yes," she said.

"Does anyone else?" Glory pressed.

"No. Are you going to live here?" She seemed to like that prospect. "Will you be my friends, like the ones before?"

High Flier stepped out from between Glory and Skydancer. She only came up to the strange animal’s chest, but she looked up at her unafraid, with calm eyes. "We would like to be your friend, if you let us," she said. "We have searched long for a new home, and your castle is wonderful. My name is High Flier. What’s yours?"

"Creamsicle," she replied. She went on to tell us that the ones who had previously occupied the castle had been tall, slender beings with flowing hair. "They walked on two legs, not four like us, and they had flat faces." They had been her friend; they had spent hours with her in the meadow and by the stream, the beings talked to her and gave her good things to eat. "They asked me to stay inside the castle with them," Creamsicle told us. "But I’ve always preferred to sleep in nature, with the sweet grass as my bed and the stars above me. One morning I woke up and everyone was gone. They had vanished in the night, without a trace. I’ve looked all over, I even climbed as far into the mountains as my hooves would allow, but I cannot find them."

Majesty feared a foul magic had taken the former owners, and was reluctant to make the castle a home. Wind Whistler, ever logical, asked her bluntly what other options we had.

"We have none," High Flier supplied. "We cannot climb the mountains, and we cannot go back the way we cane. You have journeyed too far to do that." And Majesty was forced to agree.

So we stayed. We found tools and supplies for farming, and though some of them were unfamiliar to us, High Flier instructed us in their use. The plow was one; once we learned of its function it became a great benefit to us. Posey took charge of the gardening, and the boys took turns pulling the plow. Soon we had many good things growing. Moondancer, Twilight, Majesty and Moondreamer closeted themselves in the vast library to pore over the countless books there. Glory once more assembled her team of scouts, and High Flier helped them to make maps of the area. She also gave our kitchen experts—Posey, Blueberry Baskets, Sugarberry, and Scoops—recipes she had come across in her travels, and they cooked up delicious things in the kitchen. She taught whoever wanted to learn what she knew of herblore, and helped us to make medicinal potions and tinctures.

Finally, Moondancer said it was time to fulfill the prophecy. She gathered all the herd together, with High Flier at the front, and retold her premonition. "…and you became our leader," she concluded, as High Flier looked embarrassed and flattered at once. "Since before we came here you have aided us as if you had been part of the herd all your life." Here she looked over the heads of the rest of us and said, "Although I saw the future, a future-glimpse is not always a static thing. It can be changed according to the choices we make along the path to reach it. High Flier has, in my opinion, shown herself to be a worthy to lead this herd. However, a leader is only as good as the love her subjects give her—so I ask this: among you are there any who think High Flier an unfit leader?" She once more swept her violet gaze over all of us. I watched to see if her eyes settled on anyone. It didn’t. Among the ponies, there was silence.

Moondancer looked down at High Flier. "High Flier," she said gravely. "The herd has spoken. May you lead us with wisdom."

We all cheered. High Flier opened her wings and rose above us. "I thank you, ponies," she said. "As Moondancer said, may I lead you with wisdom. In our time together, you have told me of brave and noble Firefly, who gave her life to protect her herd. I know I can never hope to replace her, but I will strive to see that she lives on in me!"

The cheers that rang through the Great Hall that day shook the castle to its very foundations.

 

So that was our beginning. We named our new home "Hurricane Castle," because, as Bluerocket said, it was a hurricane that brought us here. While exploring the vast library, Moondreamer found a book full of blank pages, and High Flier appointed me official Recorder. Among all my scribblings, I realized I had never recounted the tale of how we came to our beautiful home by the stream.

Now, the tale is told and one day, perhaps when the children are older, we can look back on it and the memories will all be worn and shaded by time, as memories are wont to be. For now, though, the hour is late and the moon has reached its zenith, and I grow tired. Tomorrow is, as it always is, another day, and there are always new memories to be made.


End file.
